


Ties That Bind

by TerribleAndRed



Series: Twin Peaks [5]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: A Song of Ice and Fire References, Aggression, Alternate Universe - A Song of Ice and Fire Fusion, Alternate Universe - Game of Thrones Fusion, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Politics, Anal Sex, Ass Play, Badass Cersei Lannister, Blow Jobs, Blue Balls, Bondage, Bottom Jaime Lannister, Car Accidents, Cock Tease, Daddy Issues, Daddy Kink, Democrat, Dom Cersei, Dom/sub, Dom/sub Play, Ejaculate, Elections, F/M, Game of Thrones References, House Lannister, Incest, Inspired by A Song of Ice and Fire, Inspired by Game of Thrones, Licking, Light Bondage, Master/Servant, Master/Slave, Modern Era, Object Penetration, Oral Sex, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Orgasm Denial, POV Jaime, POV Jaime Lannister, Pegging, Penetration, Politics, Republican, Sexual Politics, Sibling Bonding, Sibling Incest, Strap-Ons, Strapping, Suits, Tie Kink, Ties & Cravats, Tywin Lannister's A+ Parenting, Women In Power, cock teasing, intercourse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-09
Updated: 2018-11-09
Packaged: 2019-08-21 05:35:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16570619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TerribleAndRed/pseuds/TerribleAndRed
Summary: After losing his hand, Jaime Lannister can't even tie a tie around his neck. But Cersei is here to help...if she can use him as she wants.





	Ties That Bind

“You’re taking too long,” Jaime heard Cersei shout outside his closed bedroom door. _Fuck._ Sitting on his bed dressed for tonight’s gala celebrating their father’s re-election, he tried fumbling with his tie again, but he couldn’t get it right. He had tried to tie his tie properly so many times, but ever since the accident...well, one thing they don’t tell you about losing a hand is that not only does it make you feel like less of a man, it also makes it harder to dress like one. Jaime looked at the stump where his right hand used to be and smashed it against the mattress in frustration.

“We’re going to be late!” she said from outside the door. The last time he had been running late was when he was in a rush to meet her. “Come at once. You’re late. I’m in the leather corset and I’ve got the strap out, ready for your tight ass” said the text he shouldn’t have checked right after leaving work. But once he saw it, he had to see her as soon as possible; his ass ached to be penetrated by their favorite toy. He’d jumped into the car and sped down the road; he’d worked late that night at his father’s office preparing for Tywin’s next gubernatorial bid. It was crunch time before the election and late hours were the norm, but Cersei was always impatient. As was Jaime, so when he saw the red light but no other traffic, he rushed through it anyway, too soon to see the truck heading right towards him. He swerved, and the car seemingly flew off the road and flipped upside down. Jaime couldn’t remember anything that happened next; the next thing he knew, he was in the hospital, Tywin glowering at a doctor and Cersei kneeling by the bed, stroking his left arm, Tyrion snoozing in a chair in the corner. “We couldn’t save the right hand. We tried everything,” a doctor was saying to the three Lannisters. “Thankfully the truck driver called 911 immediately so things could be a lot worse. No burns or broken bones, which is a blessing, but the hand was severed when the car flipped…” Jaime dozed back into a drug-induced sleep as he heard Cersei cry softly by the bedside.

He could tell that she tried to ignore it, but the stump repulsed her. He noticed her always focusing on and touching his left arm when they made love, and looking away from the maimed right one when she thought he didn’t notice. But he noticed, and he was ashamed for her to see that he couldn’t do something as basic as tying a tie. The celebratory gala was soon, though, and there was no other choice. “Come in,” he said. Cersei rushed through the door, her face flushed with frustration. “Why have you been taking so lo….oh,” she said, noticing the tie hanging around his neck. He laughed when he saw her. “You’re wearing _that_ to the big gala celebrating the re-election of an über-conservative Republican governor?” he asked. “And what about it?” she replied, straightening her tie. Cersei always liked to push boundaries to get attention, but wearing a deep green crushed velvet blazer over a crisp button-down shirt (cut low, of course, to show off the breasts she loved to display) with a tie, and a short black pencil skirt paired with stilettos with laces that laced up her ankles? This menswear-dominatrix hybrid look would give Tywin a heart attack, but it made Jaime’s heart pound for very different reasons. Her short blonde hair was tied up in a chignon, a headband made of emeralds that matched her blazer—and her eyes—laced through the front. “I see I’m more of a man than you. Can’t even tie a tie?” she smirked, and arched her left eyebrow. Jaime stood up in frustration, but Cersei laughed. “Don’t worry, Daddy’s here to help. I’ll do it for you.”

Jaime was embarrassed to let a woman do something so menial for him, but it meant feeling her hands around his neck so he had to comply. He walked closer to her, and she took the tie that was around his neck and pulled him to her, into a deep kiss. Jaime fell back down onto the bed as they continued to kiss, feeling a bit choked as she pulled the tie tighter around his neck and engulfed his mouth in hers. Choked was fine; he was used to that with Cersei. But he wasn’t used to what came next: a sharp kick in the stomach that sent him flat onto his back on the bed. His eyes closed in pain, and when he opened them, Cersei was perched above him on her knees, twirling his tie in the air like a lasso. “I’ve got you flat on your back, helpless, with only me to help,” she said haughtily, and then she descended down upon him for a kiss. As they kissed, he felt her tie his bad arm to one of the bedposts with his tie. He pawed at her neck with his good hand, loosening her tie until it fell off, and she then grabbed it from him and tied his other arm to the opposite bedpost. But not before he grabbed her hair one last time, which fell out of its chignon and framed her face in short golden waves. She bit his lip, and then came back onto her knees. “Good boy,” she said, and then, stroking his hard dick, “big boy!”

He was unable to take his own pants off, so she did it for him, and sucked on his cock….but not long enough for him to feel any release. This was her favorite game, to give him enough pleasure that he would almost come—and then deny him that release.”You bitch!” he said. “And you love me for it,” she responded. His penis pulsed with pain—damn blue balls—and she pulled up her skirt and moved herself on top of it, so that he could enter her. “Mmm, tell daddy that feels good,” she said, throwing her head back in pleasure. “It feels good,” he said, the straps around his arms starting to dig in and hurt. “Tell her it feels good to have no control,” she demanded. “It feels good to be tied up, with no con...ohhh oh….trol” he said, grunting as he thrust inside her from below. “Not good enough, clearly, so I’m going to have to finish you off myself,” she said, taking his cock back into her mouth to bring him to climax. His entire body signed with relief, but then she flipped him over, and he was bound, powerless to stop her. He felt the familiar sensation of her fingers rubbing lube inside his ass, and then the sharpness of the strap-on entering it as she rode him, her ecstatic laughter sounding like a song. He could let this go on for hours, forever, and be content, but they had an event to attend, and just as he remembered this, he felt her pull out. “Okay, bitch, you can get untied now,” she sid. “Yes, daddy,” he replied softly. Her hair rumpled, her skirt still pulled up, she walked over to the side of the bed and untied his bad arm and flipped him around so he faced upwards again.

“I can’t let you go until you clean me up.” “Of course” he said, and she brought her legs over his mouth, moving her body downwards so that he could lick off the cum he had left on the top of her inner thighs. “ That’s better,” she said, while untying his good arm and placing the tie that bound it to the bed back around her neck, properly, like he no longer could. He lay on the bed as she fixed her hair in the mirror, collecting the pins that had fallen onto the floor during sex to redo her chignon. “I have to be ready for the gala too, you know,” Jaime said. “I know. You’ve been a good boy. As I said, daddy’s here to help,” she replied, and approached him, tying his tie around his neck like he used to be able to do without thinking. “Now we’re both ready. Take my hand and we’ll go downstairs into the limo.” “But I look disheveled; my hair..” he started, until she interrupted “that’s what you get for voting Democrat since you were 18.” He glared at her. “I’ve helped him with all his campaigns anyway,” he protested while putting on his shoes, and she laughed. “All the while he’s been grooming you to take his place not knowing any better, just because you have a cock and I don’t. But that’s okay. I’ll be calling the shots and whispering in your ear anyway.” That he couldn’t deny. She pulled him off the bed. “Time to go. Come, chase me,” she said, as she ran down the grand staircase, him following her like an eager puppy dog.


End file.
